We followed her down a short hallway. There were windows, but someone had lowered the blinds on them, and Paul was able to dodge the late afternoon sunbeams peeking through the slats.

Candy opened the door to a medium-sized conference room and motioned us to enter.

Apparently, she finally remembered her manners because she asked, “Can I get you some water or something else to drink?”

I had to suppress the urge to ask for “a glass of blood for my partner, please,” but I managed to limit myself to “Water would be fine, thank you.”

Paul said, “Water would be fine for me too, please.” His tone was correct, but I could sense the hint of irony in it.

Candy nodded and left us to find our seats.

I took in th...

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